Ordinary Messy Lives - Redeemer Episcopal

Matthew 1:18-25 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

The Birth of Jesus the Messiah

18 Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. 19 Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. 20 But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. 21 She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” 22 All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

23 “Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
    and they shall name him Emmanuel,”

which means, “God is with us.” 24 When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, 25 but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.

___________

This sermon was originally preached by me, Rev. Sarah Locke, on December 22, 2019 at Redeemer Episcopal Church in Jacksonville, FL. You can read the manuscript below and/or listen to my sermon (with infusions from the Spirit) at the link here. 

If you’re anything like my family, you’ve been singing songs about Christmas for about a month now— maybe even longer. Lots of these songs are about the utter joy and amazement with which we greet the baby Jesus. Some songs exclaim about the angels, shepherds, wise men, and the stars that seemed to gleam brighter with every passing hour. Some songs talk about stillness and the various farm animals that were present that evening. I’m sure we will sing most of them here on Christmas Eve and maybe even on Christmas morning.

But this version of the incarnation— Matthew’s version— sounds a bit different. 

Unlike many of the stories we hear of Jesus’ birth, Matthew only gives the actual birth about a verse and a half he says— “Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way (then all the way at the end of the passage)… she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.” It’s very simple, nothing about angels appearing to shepherds, nothing about Mary going to visit her cousin and babies jumping for joy in the womb. There is no long travel to Bethlehem, and nothing about the lack of room in the inn. 

But what this story does tell us is about the ordinary-ness, and the messiness of the world that Jesus would be born into. 

We hear that there is nothing particularly special about this family, a man and a woman who are in the process of being married, but haven’t quite brought their households together yet. They are young and normal, until the young woman is pregnant and it appears there is some messiness, perhaps even scandal. 

We hear about the turmoil and fright that Jesus would be born into, the conflict and strife. Imagine the fear and anxiety both Joseph and Mary would be feeling as they relied fully on the words of God’s messengers and brought a baby into the world without fully understanding his paternity. It was a wild scandal in their day. Something that could cause Mary to be left by her husband without anyone to support her or she could even be stoned to death. 

But these were all the messy, ordinary, human issues that people encountered often in Jesus’ time. There was nothing particularly special about the holy family. Even that now-common name for them— “holy”— seems to not quite fit Matthew’s narrative. 

The “holy family” didn’t have people following them around like the Kardashians or have 24/7 news coverage like the next presidential election. Everything was quite ordinary, quite common. There were no press releases or baby shower invitations, no social media blasts. 

They were not a king and queen, there was not even anything particularly special about the couple as common people. Except, of course, their faithfulness. They were much like you and me, trying to make their way in the world and follow God’s direction for their lives. 

And I think God was intentional about this. God CHOSE this quaint, normal, sort of messy family to come into the world. 

God CHOSE to come to us as a child, as a small and fragile, and ordinary baby. 

And yet. This was no ordinary birth. This was no ordinary baby. 

Both Mary and Joseph knew this reality. We hear it from God’s messenger to Joseph, that this baby will fulfill old prophecies. And from Mary, in Luke’s gospel and repeated several times this morning in worship, we hear her incredible song of praise. 

It is a song that tells more than a story of a simple family during a simple time, having a simple baby boy. 

It is the story of God doing incredible things through the humblest of people. It is the story of God bringing the most powerful people down from their thrones. It is the story of God turning the world upside down and inside out by lifting up the lowly and filling the hungry with good things, and sending the rich away empty. 

It is a song of praise at the wonder and awesomeness of our God, because Mary knows that this will be no simple birth, the child that she holds within her womb will be no ordinary baby, this will be no normal man. 

He will be the man who will bring all of these things to pass— he will be the one to begin the revolution, to jump-start the end of times, to usher in the reign of God in this world. From ordinary, humble, simple, and sometimes messy lives, this baby, Christ Jesus, will change the world. 

And I don’t want to give too much away, but if you stick around for the rest of the story, God does marvelous things with messy lives— like a couple of fishermen, some tax collectors, and a few faithful women. In the ordinary water of baptism, God grants us new life and renames us beloved. And even here, at this table this morning, God takes the most ordinary bread and wine and feeds it to us at the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one whose birth we will witness in just a few short days, and whose coming again we long for with anticipation. 

Praise God that God might do the same with our own ordinary, humble, simple, and sometimes messy lives. And our own faithfulness. Amen. 

x

Book Review: Advent Conspiracy: Making Christmas Meaningful (Again) by Rick McKinley

As we enter the season of Advent, a time that seems to come more quickly every year, I often spend time reflecting on the meaning of the season. It’s not easy, to be sure, as I also begin thinking about Christmas gifts, holiday traveling, and preparing for the many worship services. This year, I decided to take some time to listen to the audiobook version of Advent Conspiracy: Making Christmas Meaningful (Again) by Rick McKinley. It was convicting to listen to as I drove to St. John’s Town Center to buy a Christmas gift. 

It asks the compelling question of what if the incarnation, the most incredible gift ever given in Christ Jesus, was actually what we celebrated during Advent and Christmas season? McKinley challenged me to think about those who are most vulnerable in the world as we celebrate the one who came as a vulnerable baby to an unwed mother in Bethlehem. In the next couple of weeks, I hope to focus less on the hustle of Christmas shopping and more on Christ’s mission to be with the last, lost, and least. 

Consumerism, McKinley says, is the fastest growing religion in the United States. Ouch. As much as I would like to deny it, I know that I often neglect God the Creator for the gods that are money, consumerism, and the insatiable need for the new shiny thing of the Christmas season. Even though I know, theologically, what Christmas is all about, I need to be reminded every year (if not every month and every week), that this season is meant to celebrate our incredible God who loves us so much that God would become flesh and blood and live among us. 

Christmas is about a gift— but only one— the gift that saved the entire world in his living, healing, dying, and rising again. I’ll continue to ponder what Advent might mean if we focus more on that everlasting gift and our relationship with our siblings in Christ, and less on the gifts we place under a tree. I invite you to ponder with me.     

You can find Advent Conspiracy: Making Christmas Meaningful (Again) by Rick McKinley in the St. Mark’s library. You can also find out more information about the movement at adventconspiracy.org. 

Unnoticed Miracles

Matthew 1:18-25

Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet: “Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel,” which means, “God is with us.” When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.

A sermon for the 4th Sunday in Advent, preached at St. James Lutheran Church in Fayetteville, North Carolina. 

It’s a miracle! This is it! The virgin conception! This is what we’ve been waiting for this whole season! We’ve been waiting for this big miracle— the miracle that the angels proclaim, the miracle that prophets had been writing about for centuries. It’s finally here! 

We like to get caught up in the big miracle stories of the Bible — and the virgin conception and birth is one of our favorites to tell and speculate about. How did God do it? Was it real? When did she find out? 

We love these big, important miracles in the Bible like the flood, the manna, plagues, parting of the Red Sea, the feeding of the thousands, the healing stories of Jesus' time. 

We get so caught up in waiting for the big miracles that we forget to look for the smaller, unnoticed miracles in the story. In this case, Joseph’s side of the story is full of little miracles if we look a little bit closer. 

Here we have Joseph who finds out about Mary’s pregnancy. And of course he would think that she has committed adultery. 

Doesn’t expose her to the authorities, so he decides to divorce her quietly. 

Which at first doesn’t seem like such a righteous thing as the text tell us it is. 

But we know from the law that any woman who commits adultery will be stoned to death. 

So Joseph essentially chose to spare Mary’s life by divorcing her quietly and possibly infringes on his own honor and status in society. Even before the angel shows up in his dream, he is already planning to do something unexpected. It just shows the kind of person Joseph was — he was kind, compassionate, and a little bit subversive. 

And God uses this man to further God’s mission. God sends an angel to his dream and the angel tells him not to be afraid. “Do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife,” the angels says. The angels says, “she’ll have a son and you’ll name him Jesus.” 

And he did. He took Mary and married her — despite the ridicule that he would get. Despite the risk to his reputation and status in society. And what’s more — he takes the word of God and he raises Jesus as his own son, giving him a name, a home, and a trade. A miracle. 

That’s what a miracle is after all — when God, in all of God’s glory, opens our hearts to lean closer and listen more clearly and love more fully. But those kinds of miracles aren’t flashy. They aren’t always exciting. The in-breaking of the Kingdom of God is actually quit hard sometimes. 

Which is why we would rather wait for God to act, wait for God to do something explosive and amazing. 

We do the same thing with the stories in our lives, don’t we? We are always waiting for the big miracles, the ones we can turn into TV shows or movies or Facebook posts. 

We spend a lot of our lives waiting for miracles like this one. Searching for where God is breaking into the world to save a loved one from a disease or bring two estranged people back together. We are waiting for miracles all the time. 

But we want the big kind of miracle — we want the kinds that really knock our socks off with how amazing we are. And we sit and we wait for them, hoping and praying that they happen soon. 

But, I think, when we sit and wait passively for miracles to happen to us and for us, we forget that miracles -- the little ones, if there are such things as little miracles -- really are happening around us all the time. They might go unnoticed to most of the world, but that doesn’t make them any less significant. Because from what I have noticed, God tends to work through the small miracles. God tends to work through the everyday things and relationships we have with people. 

Just recently I heard a story about a young pastor and his wife: 

A man was locking up the church one evening when he finds two little boys - about 2 years old and the other 7 months old - almost naked in a pile of trash outside of the church - they were only wearing diapers. 

Unsure of what to do, he called the pastor of the church and the pastor and his wife rushed over immediately. As the pastor arrived and they talked about what to do, the parents of the little boys came out of the woods near the church and told the pastor and his wife that they were homeless and cannot take care of their children. 

The pastor asked if he might take the boys home to clean them up and keep them warm for the night. The boys were covered in bug bites, when they pulled the shoes off the older boy some of his skin came off with it. They were so filthy, the pastor and his wife bathed them once, drained the water, and bathed them again. 

The pastor and his wife came back to the woods the next day to talk to the homeless couple about their situation. After a few weeks of taking care of the boys, the homeless couple asked if they might sign custody over to the pastor and his wife. The pastor’s wife says they barely hesitated, “of course,” she said. The pastor and his wife already has three children, but without hesitation they invited two more little boys into their home, and eventually adopted them. 

This is the kind of every day miracles God works through. And if we had the courage to look around us, we would be able to see these things happening in our lives and the lives of other every single day. 

Just this past Thursday, we had one here in the church - A group of men from Grace Lutheran Church drove about five hours to deliver all of the hurricane relief supplies. Then a group of people from this church took time out of their days to come and receive donations those donations. It was an outpouring of love that was beautiful to behold. 

It’s these kinds of miracles that God works through. We like the big ones — the ones that they make into movies, like the ones where children die and meet God and come back and tell everyone about it. God works in those miracles, there’s no doubt about that. And those are the kinds of miracles we long for, aren’t they? The big kind — the kind we can post pictures and a Facebook status about. The kind that make it into the newspaper. 

But the most important and incredible miracles this world has ever seen came not in all the flashiness of Hollywood and not with thousands of pictures documenting the moment. It came in the birth of a baby we call Immanuel, God with us. The most significant miracle in all the world came into the world as a baby because God wants so badly to be in relationship with us that God actually became one of us. So that through him we might find salvation and become a part of God’s work in the world too. This miracle lives on as the body of Christ, and we are taken up into that miracle every Sunday as we eat and drink the body and blood of Christ together in the Eucharist. We become a part of this miracle. 

So that we might be a participants in and recipients of God’s incredible in-breaking of the Kingdom of God. So that we might point to the miracle that is Christ, our Lord and our Savior. Amen.